


Let's pretend, pretend, pretend

by kuriositet



Category: All For The Game - Nora Sakavic
Genre: Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Bisexual Kevin Day, Canon Compliant, M/M, Tattoos
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-08
Updated: 2019-01-08
Packaged: 2019-10-06 20:36:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,733
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17352164
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kuriositet/pseuds/kuriositet
Summary: Before Kevin goes to get his tattoo covered up, he stops by Abby's place to see Jean.





	Let's pretend, pretend, pretend

“You’re in charge of practice tonight,” Kevin said, standing over Neil who was on one of the beanbag chairs, playing a video game with Nicky. 

“What? Why?” Neil asked and looked up, ready to protest.

“I’m going out,” Kevin said, holding back a shudder as he considered his plans. “You know all the drills.”

Kevin stepped back and threw a glance at his watch. Neil stood up and followed Kevin as he went to the suite door. “Why?”

“Because we’re facing the Ravens tomorrow and all of you need all the practice you can get.” Neil seemed to swallow another protest, but Kevin caught him looking down to Kevin’s left hand. He resisted the urge to curl it into a fist and without another glance at his fellow striker, he left the room. 

He heard Nicky’s voice through the closed door, telling Neil to return to their game, and then he got into the elevator and went down to the parking lot. He waited for nearly ten minutes before Wymack’s familiar car finally turned into the parking lot and stopped in front of Kevin. He got into the passenger seat, greeting the coach (your father, a tiny voice reminded him) with a nod. At his feet was a bag full of clear glass bottles. Kevin didn’t need to look to know it was vodka.

“I want to go see Jean first,” Kevin said as they pulled out from the parking lot. Wymack didn’t ask him why, he just drove down the familiar road to Abby’s house. 

Kevin had only been to see Jean a handful of times since his former team mate had been rescued from the Nest by Renee. The first time, when they had just returned from the cabin, to convince him to stay with them. The second time was after Neil had talked to Ichirou, and gotten them all deals with the main family. The third time was after he had told the truth about his father, and hinted at the truth about his hand. It was a the day after Thea had come. The day after they had officially broken up, after 18 months of not talking and Kevin growing up and changing in an entirely new direction. 

He hadn’t known what kind of reaction he had expected or hoped for when he told Jean, but what he got was, “I won’t stay in South Carolina. The Foxes are your team. They’ll never be mine.”

The fourth time was the morning of the semifinal game away against the Trojans. Kevin hadn’t been this excited for a game in years. Jean knew how much Kevin loved USC and Kevin knew that Jean got it. They both loved the team for the same reason. The Trojans were everything that the Ravens weren’t. A single-minded and hateful desire to be best was what drove Edgar Allan, but it was passion and a love for the game that drove the Trojans. 

Kevin hadn’t been sure if it as a good idea to offer the team to Jean before even talking to Jeremy or coach Rheman, but he couldn’t bring himself to ask them without having Jean on board. “I know you won’t stay here, but what about USC?”

“What about it?” Jean had asked, staring at the ceiling. 

“Play there. It’s what you’ve always wanted.”

“What _we_ wanted,” Jean emphasized, still not looking at Kevin. “Would they take me?”

“I’ll make sure of it,” Kevin replied and Jean looked at him at last. Kevin couldn’t be sure, but he thought he saw a spark of life in Jean’s dark eyes for the first time in years. 

Kevin had returned a couple of days later and found Jean sitting up in the bed. There was a book on the bedside table, bookmark about halfway through. Jean had a laptop perched on his knees when Kevin entered, and Kevin recognized the commentary from the game Friday night.

“You shouldn’t have won,” Jean said, frowning at the screen. “The first half was terrible, and the second was only better because USC didn’t use their subs.”

“You’re gonna need to change that attitude for next year,” Kevin said, handing Jean a small pile of paper fresh from the printer in Wymack’s office at the stadium. They needed a signature, and while Kevin was happy to help Jean move on to another team, he couldn’t help but feel a little jealous that it wasn’t him signing with the Trojans. “And you need to pick a new number for your jersey. #3 is taken.”

“Why don’t you pick a new number?” Jean had asked him, and Kevin hadn’t had an answer that day.

Today he did though.

Abby hugged Kevin tightly when she let him and Wymack in, and Kevin hugged her back, grateful for her strength. He left her and Wymack to go find Jean though, and found him reading in the guest room. He was wearing reading glasses, and somehow that made him look younger to Kevin who remembered the small boy who had arrived at Evermore 12 years old, clutching a battered copy of _The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe_. Kevin also remembered Riko tearing pages out of the book and ripping the glasses off Jean’s face, throwing them on the floor and stomping on them. 

“Kevin?” Jean’s voice brought him back from the memory, and Kevin shook his head to himself, looking down at the bottle in his hand. He felt the urge to open it and drink, he knew he would have to before the night was over, but with Jean he wanted a clear head.

Jean put his book down, and swung his legs down so he was sitting on the edge of the bed. He still had his glasses on as he looked at Kevin, at the bottle in his hand, and back to his face. He waved a hand at the bed beside him, inviting Kevin to sit down. 

Kevin hesitated for a long moment before finally crossing the room and sitting down beside Jean, leaving a little over a foot between them, though it felt like a mile. “I’m getting rid of it,” he muttered shakily, hands clenching and knuckles whitening with the effort. Jean didn’t say anything, but when Kevin turned to his left to look at him, Jean was looking right back. Kevin’s eyes sought out the 3 on Jean’s left cheekbone, and he knew Jean was looking at his 2.

He didn’t think about reaching out with his right hand, cupping Jean’s cheek and pressing his thumb carefully over the number. He just did it. He trembled when he felt Jean do the same and let his eyelids flutter shut.

He didn’t know how many times they had done this at Evermore. He couldn’t remember the last time they had done it. But he remembered the first time like it was yesterday.

They were sixteen, the numbers having just been made permanent on their faces. It stung and smarted and Kevin wanted to scratch it off. When he was younger he hadn’t understood what the numbers meant, he had just thought it was a fun thing to show that Riko and he were a pair. One or two didn’t matter, right? After Jean had arrived it had become clearer that it was about ownership, however. Jean wore a number too, but he wasn’t the same as them. Kevin wasn’t the same as Riko.

Kevin and Jean weren’t supposed to be alone together, but they weren’t always punished when they were, so when they could they hid in Jean’s room. This day they were sitting cross-legged on Jean’s bed, facing each other in silence. They listened, were always listening, for the familiar sound of Riko’s boots against the floor. When they heard it it would already be too late, but they listened anyway.

Kevin tapped his fingertips against his cheek. He was looking at the 3 on Jean’s cheek, his cheekbones much sharper now than when he had arrived years ago. Kevin reached out, starting with his dominant left hand, but using his right one instead when he realized the awkward angle. He took Jean’s cheek in his hand, and gently pressed his thumb over the number. It felt hot, the lines swollen and rising slightly over the skin. 

Jean could be anyone like this, Kevin had thought to himself. He startled when he felt cool fingertips on his own face, but leaned into Jean’s calloused palm. 

“I don’t want to be his,” Jean whispered in French. It was always French when it was just the two of them. Riko didn’t allow them to speak in a way he didn’t understand, but Jean had taught it to Kevin and so it was a thing that was just theirs. 

“Who do you want to be?” Kevin asked, shifting slightly so they were sitting closer. “We could pretend. Like this.” He rubbed his thumb over Jean’s tattoo and looked carefully at his face, taking in what he looked like without the number.

Jean breathed out a shaky sigh, and their eyes met. “I wanna be my own.”

Kevin couldn’t stop the words that left his mouth the next second, and he felt his face heat up as he kept looking straight into Jean’s dark eyes. “I want to be yours.”

Jean’s eyes widened and Kevin leaned in, hesitating just before their lips met. Jean pushed forward the last half an inch and touching Jean’s lips with his own was everything Kevin had dreamed it would be. He kept his right hand and thumb over Jean’s tattoo but reached up with his left hand to cup his other cheek. Jean did the same but slid his left hand into Kevin’s hair instead. Jean felt warm and solid and safe, and this thing was theirs. It was just theirs.

Kevin blinked, returning to the guest room in Abby’s house where he was facing an older version of the same boy, one wearing glasses and sporting a buzzcut to hide where clumps of hair had been ripped out.

“Do you want to pretend?” Jean asked, dark eyes searching Kevin’s for an answer. Kevin shook his head, but leaned into Jean’s hand, raising his left hand and pressing it over Jean’s. 

“I need it to be real,” he said, turning Jean’s palm and pressing a kiss to it. “Come with me?”

Jean hesitated but nodded after a long moment. “Yes.”

When they went by the kitchen to get Wymack, Kevin had started on the vodka. Jean made him braver just by being there, but Kevin knew there was no way he could get through this sober. In some ways it was even worse than facing Riko at the fall banquet last year had been. He had been terrified then, but he had known it would be temporary and Andrew had been by his side the whole time. 

This open act of defiance after the harsh words a few weeks back was sure to get him killed.

Which was exactly why he needed to do it.

When they were in the car, Kevin in the passenger seat and Jean behind the driver’s seat, Kevin offered Jean one of the unopened bottles at his feet, but Jean refused with a wave of his hand. “I don’t drink.”

He spoke in English now, inviting Wymack to the conversation, and Kevin wondered if Jean remembered finding the letter from Kevin’s mother. It had been a short while after they got inked, after they started their pretend game, and after Jean showed Kevin the letter, after he had read it too, Jean had cried and begged Kevin to go.

Kevin had refused. He had promised that he would never leave. _”I want to be yours, remember?”_

He hadn’t kept that promise, Kevin thought miserably and took another swig of vodka. 

“Are you getting yours done as well?” Wymack asked, looking over his shoulder to Jean who shook his head. 

“Not today.”

Wymack nodded in the corner of Kevin’s eye. “Well, it’s good of you to come.”

The tattoo parlor was a half hour drive away, and by the time the car pulled to a stop, Kevin had nearly finished his first bottle. When they got out of the car he caught Jean looking at him, maybe with concern, but it could just as well have been disdain. Kevin didn’t feel drunk, but then he never did. He knew it still had an effect though, because disdain or not, he couldn’t shake the memory from earlier and wanted to see if kissing Jean still felt the same. 

But then he felt sick to the stomach with shame, and he got another bottle from the car to bring inside. 

Wymack knew the tattoo artist well, and had already made sure it wasn’t a problem if Kevin was drinking, as long as he had already settled on what he wanted to cover his tattoo with. Kevin had thought about it for weeks, ever since Neil came back from Baltimore with his 4 burned off his face. He didn’t want his new tattoo to have anything to do with Riko, but he kept coming back to Riko referring to himself as King. 

Kevin had never played a lot of chess himself, he was too busy playing Exy, but his mother had enjoyed it and taught him how to play. He knew that the king was actually a pretty useless piece, completely dependent on the other pieces to protect it. It was the queen that was powerful. If Riko wanted to be King, then Kevin was going to be Queen. And tomorrow, Kevin would finally beat him. 

They went inside and Kevin told the artist what he wanted, he even managed to do it without slurring, and then he and Jean sat down in the waiting area in a silence that was only disturbed by some 80’s rock playlist. Kevin sat close to Jean, their thighs pressed together from knee to hip, and Kevin focused on that, letting it ground him. He could feel Wymack’s eyes on them from across the room and wondered what he thought of all of this. 

Jean broke the silence between them with a question. “Why are you getting a chess piece?”

“Because of my mom,” Kevin replied, and in the corner of his eye he could see Wymack listening more intently. He explained to Jean all of his motivations for the tattoo, and Jean nodded carefully. 

“I don’t know what I would get,” he said. 

“What about a bird?” Kevin suggested. “Because you’re free now.”

“Maybe,” Jean said. “Or a flower,” he added after a moment. “For my sister.”

Kevin nodded. He knew Jean hadn’t seen or heard from any of his family members since they had sold him to the Moriyamas, but he knew Jean had a younger sister that he loved more than anything. “What’s her favorite?”

“Daisies,” Jean said, a sad smile on his face.

Kevin turned a little so he could look at Jean, and pressed his thumb over the 3. “I could see that,” he said, imagining a small flower there instead. “It’s pretty.”

The moment was interrupted by Wymack clearing his throat. The tattoo artist was done preparing and ready for Kevin.

Kevin was not ready for him.

He stood up, but couldn’t bring himself to take even one step. “I can’t do this,” he whispered, quiet enough that only Jean heard it. Jean stood up next to him, lacing the fingers of his left hand with Kevin’s and wrapping his arm around Kevin’s shoulders, hugging them tight. Kevin relaxed some as he leaned into Jean’s taller body, but it wasn’t enough. “He’s gonna kill me. Or worse.”

“He can’t touch you. Or me. He can’t touch any of us,” Jean muttered against Kevin’s ear, repeating the words over and over, like a mantra. When Kevin still didn’t move, Jean stood in front of him, reaching down to where the bottle waited in Kevin’s right hand.

“Drink, if you need to,” Jean said, taking the bottle from Kevin’s hand and holding it up in front of him. “You’re strong enough. You can do this. Do whatever you need to do to get through it.” Kevin suddenly realized Jean had gone back to speaking French, but he couldn’t put his finger on when. It didn’t matter though, because it worked. Kevin took the bottle back from Jean and drank until he was sure it must be nearly empty. It wasn’t, but he felt the effect of it anyway.

Still clutching Jean’s hand, Kevin went up and let the tattoo artist press the outline of the Queen to his cheek. He couldn’t bear to look at it in the mirror, but turned to Jean and Wymack, trusting them to make sure it was alright. Then he lay down, stared up at the ceiling and took a few deep breaths. He never let go of Jean.

He jerked when the machine whirred to life far too close to his face and he was forced to remember the last time he had been in this position. The pain and the terror and the instant need to scratch it off. The tears leaking out of Jean’s eyes when it was his turn. 

The needle touched Kevin’s cheek now and he imagined it being just above where the 2 ended. It hurt and he had to force himself not to move, focusing on Jean’s hand in his, on the sound of his voice speaking close to Kevin’s ear. “You’re not his anymore, you can be anyone you want, whatever you want.”

It didn’t take more than a minute or two, but it felt like an eternity before the pain let up. Kevin wasn’t sure he wanted to see it now either, but he thought he might never look in a mirror again if he didn’t do it now, so he sat up and let Wymack hold out a small mirror toward him. He stared at the reflection for a long minute, not believing it. There had been a 2 on his left cheek for nearly as long as he could remember, and now there wasn’t. He reached up and tapped two fingers against it, feeling the slight pain and the heat coming off it. 

“You okay, kid?” Wymack asked, and Kevin finally looked away.

Kevin didn’t have a good answer to that question. He simply shrugged and said, “I wanna get out of here.”

He took another swig of vodka before letting the tattoo artist bandage him up and talk him through the aftercare routine, and then they finally walked out. Kevin felt a little unsteady now, and leaned heavily on Jean’s strong body as they waited by the car for Wymack to pay for the tattoo and say goodbye to his friend. He had insisted on it the second Kevin had asked him for help finding a place, and Kevin had to admit it felt good to have his dad do something like that for him. 

“He’s a really good dad,” Kevin muttered, but it almost drowned in Jean’s shirt, where Kevin had burrowed his face. Kevin’s arms wrapped loosely around Jean’s waist, and Jean held him around his shoulders, just tight enough to make sure Kevin didn’t lose his balance and topple over. Kevin was drunk, he knew that. He didn’t know where the vodka had gone, but he didn’t need it anymore. He pressed his nose to the base of Jean’s throat and inhaled.

“Kevin,” Jean said, and Kevin was suddenly scared of what Jean might say, so he interrupted him with words of his own.

“I’m sorry, Jean.” Kevin slurred a little, and pulled back an inch so he could look at Jean. “I’m so sorry I left you.”

“You had no choice,” Jean said, but Kevin shook his head. Jean was talking about the second time. Kevin meant the first time as well, when he had left Jean for Thea, choosing the safer, straighter appearance rather than being true to himself. It wasn’t that he hadn’t loved her, but she wasn’t Jean, and she would never know or understand him the way Jean did.

“I’m sorry I said I didn’t love you. That I didn’t want to be yours anymore. I lied.” Jean looked speechless, so Kevin continued, “I have always been yours, I was just too much of a coward to tell you.”

Jean made a sudden move as if to lean in and kiss Kevin, who pulled out of reach and almost lost his balance so Jean had to tighten his grip on him. Kevin unwound his arms from Jean’s waist and pressed his left index finger over Jean’s full lips, and his right thumb over Jean’s tattoo. 

“Don’t kiss me now,” Kevin said. “Kiss me on Saturday. Kiss me when I come back with the championship trophy. Kiss me at the victory party.”

Jean made a face at that, possibly a smirk, but Kevin was too close to his face to really tell. He felt it though, when Jean leaned in and whispered into his ear, “Only if you promise to do the same next year, when we kick your asses and win the championship.”

“Deal.” Kevin thinks about it for a moment, then lets out a drunken giggle. “I’m so glad I got you into my favorite team.”

They jump in surprise as Wymack unlocks the car beside them, apparently having decided that he had waited long enough for their moment to be over. Kevin wondered if he understood what was going on. He wondered if his dad minded having a son that wasn’t straight. Then he decided that his dad definitely didn’t mind, and Kevin climbed into the backseat with Jean, leaning against him the whole way back to Fox tower. 

Jean helped him out of the car, Kevin was seriously unsteady on his feet now. “I’m fine,” he said, giggling when he realized he had used Neil’s catchphrase. “You can help me to the elevator, okay?”

Jean agreed, though he looked like he wanted to follow Kevin up to his room and properly tuck him in. Kevin let them inside and pressed the button to the elevator, then he turned to Jean, who pressed a kiss to his forehead.

“Give them hell tomorrow. It’s time to show Riko who the true ruler of Exy is, Queen.”

**Author's Note:**

> This wasn't supposed to be so long. It just got out of hand.
> 
> I hope you enjoyed it!


End file.
